Solid Ground
by featherstorm
Summary: A break-in rattles Elenor -- a young CSI/psychic previously written in Family Honor -- and she turns to Sheldon for help. Chapter 2, "Uncertain Footing," is up!
1. Shaken Foundation

Standing in the wreckage of her living room, Elenor Cleary thought numbly, _Weapon. I should have my weapon out._ She lifted her hand towards her holster and realized, belatedly, that the gun was already in her hand. A cop's instinct, one she hadn't realized had ever been instilled in her.

Having it out, she almost put it away. She was shaking hard enough she felt like she was about to fly to pieces; it wouldn't take much for her to accidentally fire the gun. She compromised by keeping her finger well away from the trigger.

A noise from the kitchen made her flinch and whirl. The weapon was halfway raised before she realized it was just a drip from the perpetually leaky faucet. Beyond that, the apartment was completely silent.

_Clear the premises_, the functioning corner of her mind prompted her. Living room and dining room were clear. So was the kitchen. She edged down the hallway, breathing shallowly, praying that the hardwood floors wouldn't squeak and give her away. _If there's anyone here -- oh please, don't let there be anyone here..._ She'd never fired her weapon outside the range, never had to face down a perp. Not on the job, and sure as hell not _alone_, in her own apartment...

She stopped, back pressed against the wall, and sucked in a quiet breath. _Breathe, Ell_, she commanded herself.

A few moments later, moderately steadied, she slid over to the bathroom door and peaked in. Drawers had been dumped out, things were leaking from bottles, but there was no one in there. The shower curtain had been yanked half off the rod, helpfully leaving no place for a burglar to hide behind. She edged a little farther into the room, keeping half an eye on the hallway, and threw open the linen closet. Signs of rummaging there, but no one hiding in with the towels.

She couldn't relax yet; she hadn't checked her bedroom. Whatever this person had been looking for was most likely in there. And he had been looking for something, she _knew_ that now. The realization nearly turned her stomach. She used her clairvoyance most at crime scenes. Her home _should not be a crime scene_. She clenched her jaw, swallowing hard, trying not to lose it. _Later_, she told herself forcibly.

She moved into the bedroom and bit back a moan. The destruction... she tried not to see it, tried to focus on making sure she was alone, but it was so hard. The pillows and mattress had been cut open, torn almost to shreds. The rug on the floor had been kicked aside, revealing the circle painted on the wood beneath. Dresser and nightstand drawers were pulled out, their contents flung on the ground. Her jewelry box had been toppled. The closet door gaped; even from where she stood, at a bad angle to it, she could see clothes spilling out of it.

Moving on autopilot, she checked under the bed before stepping as quietly as possible amidst the debris over to the closet. Last hiding place. She swung, weapon raised and pointed at the doorway.

Empty.

The breath and strength left her in a rush. "Clear," she muttered to herself.

The blaring of a jazz band shattered the silence of the apartment.

She shrieked, hand convulsing on her weapon, though thankfully _not_ on the trigger. Then she nearly dropped it, trying to juggle it along with fumbling for her cell phone. Finally she got the phone flipped open; the gun stayed in her other hand. "Hello?"

"Ell? You alright? You sound..."

"Sheldon!" She could have wept at the sound of his friendly, concerned voice. "Someone broke into my apartment."

"Are you okay?" he demanded immediately.

"I'm fine, I'm -- he's not here anymore, he -- I got home and my door was open, and -- everything's trashed, but -- but he's not here anymore, he's gone. I checked." She was starting to hyperventilate. She wanted to sink onto her bed, but it was -- oh, all of her _things_...

"I'm coming over."

"Please," she whispered.

She heard him moving on the other end of the phone. "You want me to stay on the line while I head over?"

_Yes!_ her brain shouted. She took a deep breath. "No," she replied in a small voice. Clearing her throat, she repeated in a stronger tone, "No, I'll be okay. Just... come as quick as you can, okay?"

"I'm already out the door. I'll be there in fifteen."

When he signed off, she flipped the phone closed and dropped her hand to her side. She stood there in the wreckage of her bedroom, nearly paralyzed. Half her brain urged her to try to make sense of it all -- start picking things up, start trying to figure out what he'd been looking for and why. The rest of her wanted desperately to curl up in a corner until Sheldon arrived.

She compromised by leaving the remains of her bedroom and going back to the dining room. They hadn't done much damage there -- the table and chairs were simple and provided no hiding places for whatever they'd been looking for. She carefully lowered herself into one of those chairs. The phone and gun she placed on the table beside her, both within easy reach.

The knock at the door some time later was soft, but it still gave her a jolt. Heart pounding, she made her way to the door and peered out the peephole. Sagging with relief, she unbolted the door and threw it open.

The next thing she knew was Sheldon's arms wrapped around her, her face buried in his shoulder, her hands clinging to the back of his shirt. The world abruptly felt like a much nicer place. She'd chide herself for that later -- she was an independent woman, wasn't she? -- but for the moment she was content to take as much comfort and safety in his arms as she could.

Eventually they pulled apart. Sheldon pushed her hair back from her face with gentle hands, his face a picture of concern. "You okay?"

She nodded. "Yeah." She had relaxed a bit in his embrace, at least enough to breathe again. She could almost smile at him, though it felt a little more like a grimace. "I shouldn't have freaked out like that. I'm supposed to be a cop, right?"

He gave her a gentle little half smile, shaking his head. "You're a scientist first. Besides, even straight-up cops get rattled when something like this happens." He squeezed her arm. "Now, do you want me to call the lab? Get some techs out here, process..."

She shook her head. "No. I'll do it. My way," she added. Her smile was tiny but genuine.

He responded in kind, nodding his understanding. "Less technology, more spellwork?"

"It's my place." Her shoulders shifted in a minute shrug. "If I don't find anything, we'll call the lab, okay?"

Sheldon nodded. "Sounds like a plan. How about your cousin, though? Think you should call her?"

Her lips stretched into what was almost a grin. "Yeah, I'd better." Her cousin the cop-slash-Hunter wouldn't take it well if she wasn't notified ASAP. "Then... Then I'll get started." It was easier to contemplate, looking at him and not at the wreckage of her home. She swallowed, her smile falling away at the thought.

His hand found hers, squeezing gently. "Anything I can do to help?"

She looked up into his chocolate eyes. "Just keep me company, okay?"

He nodded. "I can do that."

She took a deep breath, taking what strength she could from the man who'd become one of her dearest friends -- and maybe more -- and then moved away. She had work to do.


	2. Uncertain Footing

The third time Ell nearly knocked over a piece of equipment, Sheldon came to her rescue. He set aside his work and came over, tugging her by the hand towards the lab door. "Come on."

"The evidence --"

"Danny's still processing, and we'll be back in there in a minute."

She twisted her head around, looking back into the room. Danny _was_ still processing. He politely ignored the pair of them as Sheldon ushered her through the door. With a sigh, she stopped resisting and followed him a little ways down the hall, into relative privacy.

When they stopped, he turned to face her. "Now." His expression was full of concern, his voice soft. "What's wrong?"

Part of her wanted to tell him "Nothing" and see if he'd leave it alone. The rest of her wanted so badly to throw herself into his arms and beg him to keep her safe... She chose a middle ground, taking what comfort he could (and so readily did) provide. "I can't focus," she admitted quietly. "I'm jumpy, I'm distracted, and frankly I'm surprised I haven't broken anything today, or contaminated evidence, or _something_."

Sheldon nodded a little. "Why? I mean, why are you..."

She turned her head away, pressing her lips together.

After a moment, he touched her arm. "Is it the break-in?"

A shudder crawled up her spine. She nodded shortly. She didn't trust herself to speak, not without falling to pieces, and she wouldn't do that at work.

When Sheldon offered her his arms, though, she couldn't resist the invitation. She sank into his embrace, hugging him tightly. His arms around her shoulders were like a barrier between her and the world. She could relax a little then, in a way she couldn't do on her own.

"It shouldn't affect me this much," she whispered into his shoulder. "I'm a cop. I shouldn't be bothered by something like this."

"Says who?" He pulled back enough to meet her eyes. One hand touched her cheek as he smiled chidingly down at her. "We're all still human here. And it is only human to get freaked out about something like this."

"Right." She gave him a sardonic look. "You think Mac would have nightmares if his place was broken into?"

"Maybe not," he conceded with a quirk of his lips, "but Mac's also been doing this kind of thing for a lot longer than you have. Plus, he was a Marine. It's not really fair comparison."

She had to smile a little at that, conceding his point. "Still..."

Sheldon shook his head. "You're not giving yourself enough credit." He did relinquish her then, though his hand lingered on her arm. "This wasn't a trivial thing, Ell. I don't think you'd be this freaked out if it had been a normal break-in." He lowered his voice. "You didn't tell me what you found when you searched."

She moved to lean against the wall. "Nothing," she said quietly. "I didn't find anything. At all."

"So he was good at his job."

She shook her head impatiently. "You know as well as I do that even the _best_ criminal leaves evidence. Shoe prints, trace amounts of dirt, something. There was _nothing_. And trust me, if there had been, I'd have found it." She met his eyes, daring him to challenge that statement. It wasn't a boast, and he knew it. She had a knack for finding hard-to-find evidence. In her own home, that knack went from "very good" to "perfect."

Sheldon nodded slowly. "Okay. So that means -- what?"

"It means --" She paused as one of the lab techs walked past them. She hesitated even after the woman was gone. "Can we talk about this later? Somewhere less..." She waved a hand, indicating the lab.

"Sure." He nodded again. "Come over to my place tonight. We can order Chinese and see what we can figure out about your mysterious burglar."

She smiled despite the shiver that went down her spine again. "Okay."

He looked at her closely, making her shiver in a completely different way. "You gonna be okay for the rest of the day?"

She drew a breath and considered the question. Her muscles weren't as tight as they had been, and her mind wasn't racing nearly so fast. It helped to have someone to talk to about it. She nodded. "I'll be okay." She reached out and squeezed his hand impulsively. "Thanks, Sheldon."

His smile was warm and sweet. "Anytime."

* * *

"You didn't _really_ steal the body, right?"

Sheldon gave her an arch look. "You don't think I would?"

Ell snorted and prodded his leg with a toe. "No."

He flashed her a grin. "Okay, no. I'd swapped the name cards. The body was right where it was supposed to be -- that just wasn't where Sid was looking. You should have seen his face!" He chuckled.

She laughed. "Troublemaker."

He shrugged, unrepentant. "When you're surrounded by death, you have to find your fun somewhere."

Her mirth faded. "Yeah." A feeling of unease crept up and coiled around the base of her spine. She'd been relaxed, just enjoying Sheldon's company, but the reminder of death and darkness called back the shadows she'd been fighting since the break in.

She hadn't moved her foot after poking him. Now his hand covered her ankle, squeezing a little. When she met his eyes, he smiled gently. "You want to talk about your burglar?"

Either his touch or his smile chased away the shadows enough that she could laugh quietly. "Not really." She picked at the couch cushion, avoiding his eyes for a moment.

"We don't have to." When she met his eyes, startled, he shrugged a little. "I can keep telling stories from the morgue," he offered with a hint of a smile, "or we can put in a movie. But that won't help you. And I'd like to help you."

She loved his eyes. When he looked at her like that -- intense, warm, sweet, caring -- it was like the treacherous ground under her feet firmed up a bit. After a long moment, she was able to nod. "Okay."

"You're sure?"

She nodded again. "Yeah."

"Okay." He turned a little to face her more fully. His hand was still on her ankle, like he was holding her in place. "So you said that when you looked, you didn't find anything. No evidence at all. No trace --"

"Etc, etc. Nothing."

He frowned. "What about the pillows? Weren't they cut open?"

She flashed back to that night and the wreckage of her room. Hiding a shudder with a shrug, she told him, "I don't know. I mean, I guess they were cut -- they were opened _somehow_, at least --"

"You don't think they were cut."

After a moment's hesitation, she shook her head.

He kept peering at her. "Is this one of your hunches?"

She bit her lip and looked away. "I, um." She shook her head again. "I don't know."

"Ell --"

"I don't _know_," she repeated sharply, looking at him. "This thing has me so jumbled I can't even tell what's what in my own head!"

He caught her hand -- which she'd been waving in the air -- and held it. "Hey, hey." He squeezed her fingers reassuringly as she sucked in a breath. "Let's leave that for a minute, okay? It doesn't matter."

She looked away, ashamed of her outburst. He didn't understand, though. She'd had control over her gifts -- as much control as one had over something as intuitive as her brand of clairvoyance -- since she was 13. It was beyond rare for her to lose focus badly enough that she couldn't tell a guess from a hunch. And for something as relatively minor as this to do it...

It was the uncertainty that was messing with her head. Not knowing what the intruder had been after. All she could do was speculate and guess and wonder, and her mind just kept spinning in circles chasing the possibilities. It was enough to drive a person mad, and she was afraid that was where she was headed.

As though he was the psychic one, Sheldon followed her thoughts. "Let's try to figure out who _could_ have done this. Maybe if we talk through the possibilities, we'll work out an answer."

She drew in a deep, steadying breath, and nodded. "Okay." Meeting his eyes, she even mustered a smile. "Sorry."

He squeezed her fingers again. "No apologies needed. Now..." He frowned in thought. "What are our options? A perfectly normal, human, unmagical thief seems most likely. Skilled, sure, but --"

Ell cut him off with a shake of her head. "That's the _least_ likely option. Almost every crime scene has some sort of physical evidence of the perp, right? Trace, prints, something. For there to be nothing..."

"It can be done," Sheldon contradicted her. "Someone who's careful and patient can clean up a scene and leave it looking exactly the way he wants."

"Maybe so, but do you really think that's what happened here? My place was tossed. That wasn't staged, Sheldon. He was looking for something. That, I _do _know."

"Okay." He nodded slowly. "So either he was careful while he tossed the place --"

"Seems like a contradiction to me."

"Or he somehow cleaned up after."

She gave him a doubtful look.

He grinned a little at that. "Okay, it's unlikely. But possible."

"Slightly," she conceded grudgingly. "More likely, I think, is our other option -- a mage."

"You're forgetting a possibility. Or maybe it's not really a possibility," he added thoughtfully. "You'll have to tell me." At her quizzical look, he explained. "A normal, non-magical person aided by magic."

Ell frowned. "Aided how?"

"An amulet or something?" He pulled a face, laughing at himself. "That's what I was hoping you could tell me. I mean, I don't know of it's possible in the first place..."

"I showed you the toy I made for my nephew," she reminded him absently, turning the idea over in her head. "It is possible to put spells into an object. But that kind of spell -- that's _complicated_ magic. I'm frankly not sure a mage could remove all trace of himself from a room he was standing in, much less put a spell that could do that into something for a non-mage to use." There _were _spells used by Hunters to clean up a scene that might get police attention, but even those weren't as complicated as the one she and Sheldon were hypothesizing. The Hunter spells broke down DNA and obscured prints. They changed the physical evidence, rather than removing it. "There are people I can ask," she said slowly. "If something like that has been developed, they'll either know, or they _need_ to know."

Sheldon was watching her closely. "But you don't think it's likely."

She shrugged, sighing. "I don't know. I really don't. It's pretty damned far-fetched, but I've been surprised by magic before."

"That's comforting." He smiled as she wrinkled her nose at him. The smile fell away a moment later, replaced by a speculative look. "You said a mage couldn't remove all trace of himself from a room, but what about preventing himself from _leaving_ any trace?"

"How?" She shook her head, working it through herself. "Trace evidence comes primarily from contact. So if he doesn't come into contact with anything..."

"Is that possible?" Sheldon wiggled his fingers. "A normal perp will wear gloves to keep from leaving prints on things he touches. Long sleeves, a mask --"

"Yeah, but those can leave behind trace of their own. Fibers, prints, even sweat that comes through." She sat up a little straighter. "But maybe... maybe the magical equivalent of those things? A skin-tight physical shield, keeping all of your oils and fibers away from the environment. It would have to have friction on the outside, to let you actually _do _things, but that's doable." She frowned. "Again, it's not something I've heard of being done, but in this case I don't think it's something that far-fetched." She added it to her mental list of things to ask Ailey about. Her Hunter cousin was much more up on advances in spellwork than she was.

"So that's one thought." Sheldon nodded. "How else could he have done it?"

Ell arched an eyebrow at him, a wry smile on her lips. "Consider every possibility, right?"

"Exactly." They both thought for a moment. Sheldon volunteered, "What about telekinesis?"

"Telekinesis?" She paused, smiling and poking him in the leg again. "You've been studying up on this, haven't you? Amulets, telekinesis..."

He chuckled, slightly abashed. "If by studying you mean reading fantasy novels, then yes." His shoulders shifted. "I know most of it probably doesn't apply to the _reality _of it, but I was curious."

"More applies than you might think." Her smile widened as she brushed her fingers over his. "But Sheldon, you can ask me about it. Anytime."

He blinked, surprised and pleased. "Yeah? I wasn't sure -- I thought maybe you wouldn't be able to say any more than you have."

She gave a slight shake of her head. "I might not be able to tell you everything, but I can tell you plenty. And Sheldon..." She squeezed his hand, meeting his eyes. "I _want _to. I want you to know about me, and about this weird, wacky world I live in." _If you can handle that_, she added silently, _then maybe there's a chance for us._

The warmth in his eyes nearly stole her breath. "I'd like that, too."

It was hard to stop smiling foolishly back at him and get her mind back on the problem at hand. "So," she began, forcing herself to focus, "telekinesis. For the record, yes, telekinesis exists and could be used for this kind of search, complete with the same level of destruction. He'd still have had to clean up after himself -- shoe prints, fibers from his clothes -- but not as much as if he searched by hand."

Sheldon nodded thoughtfully. "Could he have done it from outside? Moved stuff around in your apartment without actually entering it himself?"

She shook her head. "Only if he could have seen inside somehow, magically. If he could do that, he wouldn't have had to rummage around -- he could have 'seen' everywhere in the apartment without opening doors or moving rugs." She paused, an idea niggling at her mind. "Maybe there's another way he could have done it from the outside, though," she said slowly. "Elementals. Specifically, air elementals."

Sheldon frowned. "Like the one you used to send a message that time?"

She shivered involuntarily. It had taken being kidnapped by anarchists with a twisted sense of justice for her to reveal her magical and psionic gifts to any of her coworkers. She'd managed to get a message out to her cousin Ailey -- a homicide detective as well as a Hunter and mage -- using an air elemental. They'd been rescued as a result, but the experience had left some pretty deep marks on her nerves. She had to wonder if that was part of why she was reacting so badly to the break-in.

Sheldon's fingers wrapped more firmly around her hand, holding tightly. "Sorry," he said quietly.

She shook her head, forcing her shoulders to relax a bit. "I did use an air elemental that time," she replied in answer to his question. "I've never used them for much more than that. But I know people who can and have summoned them to do more. Something like this would be well-suited for them, and they'd do it without leaving marks or physical trace. They're literally made of air; air doesn't leave fingerprints or knife marks." She paused. "Actually, that would explain something else, too -- how he got around my wards."

Sheldon's brow furrowed. "Wards?"

She nodded. "Sort of a magical alarm system. Not even that, really," she amended, frowning in thought, "more like... Like a piece of tape over a door jam, or dust on the floor. Something that gets disturbed by someone passing through." She left it at that, though it wasn't a full explanation. Her wards were comparatively very weak, just enough to provide some sense of security. Stronger wards did a hell of a lot more than that. A strong warder or very old wards could actually physically prevent people from entering a building. Ell had never really regretted not having that level of protection until now.

"Your burglar didn't disturb these 'wards'?"

"No." She contemplated their joined hands for a moment. "That's been bothering me," she admitted finally, "but less than you might think. Less than the lack of evidence. A strong enough mage -- and he wouldn't have to be _that_ strong -- could get past the low-level wards I have. It's even theoretically possible for an unmagical person to get through. I suspect those who can have latent, undeveloped gifts, though, without realizing or consciously using it." She shook her head, stopping herself from wandering down that theoretical road. "That's not likely, though. And for a mage to get past them -- that's not _easy_, just doable. What doesn't make sense is that given the destruction in the apartment, I can't imagine why he'd have bothered to avoid the wards."

"He wasn't trying to be sneaky," Sheldon agreed.

She nodded. "Elementals, though, they wouldn't trip the wards in any case. It wouldn't have had to be his goal, just a happy side effect."

"That makes sense." At her raised eyebrow, he chuckled. "As much as any of this makes sense."

She smiled wanly. "Yeah."

They fell silent for a long moment. "We haven't really come up with any answers, I guess," Sheldon said softly, his fingers tightening briefly on hers.

"No," she agreed. She gave him a stronger smile, shaking her head slightly. "But we've come up with questions, and that's something. Just talking through it... it helps." She shrugged her shoulders. She was tense, but it wasn't as bad as before. She felt more settled than she had since the break-in. She took a breath, enjoying the lessening of the tension. "I have a better idea of who or what. Not _why_, but we both know motive sometimes comes last."

He grinned wryly. "That's true." He shook her hand a little, idly. "So what do we do next? I guess if this is magical -- and you seem to think it is -- you can't really go to the cops."

She nodded confirmation. "That's why I didn't report it to begin with. Besides, with the lack of evidence, what could they do?" She shrugged. "So no, no cops."

"What about -- I don't know, there has to be some sort of authority over magical things, right? Someone with jurisdiction over things the justice system can't handle?"

She covered a wince with an apologetic look. There _was_ such an authority, particularly for someone in her family, but... "That's one of those things I can't tell you," she confessed. "All I can say is that it'll be taken care of."

Frustration flickered across his face. She thought for a moment he'd protest, but he visibly held his tongue. After a breath, he nodded, frustration giving way to chagrin and resignation. "You did warn me. I want you to promise me, though -- if it _isn't_ taken care of, you let me help in whatever way I can. Okay?"

"Okay," she agreed easily, surprised and pleased by his insistence.

He held her gaze. "Promise?"

Her smile widened. "Promise." Touched and abruptly feeling bold, she closed the distance between them, sliding down the couch until she could kiss him.

It wasn't their first kiss; they'd gone out twice, and both nights had ended with him kissing her sweetly at her door. It _was_ the first time she initiated it, though, and he reacted with the same surprise and pleasure she'd felt a moment ago.

"Thank you," she murmured against his lips as they parted.

His hand brushed down her hair. "I wish I could do more," he replied just as softly.

She smiled. "You do plenty," she assured him, settling into his side. He wrapped an arm around her shoulders. Surprisingly content, she laid her head on his shoulder. "Honestly," she added, peering up at him. "Just being here for me -- it means a lot."

"I'm glad." His fingertips trailed down her jaw and he lowered his head to kiss her again.

It was some time later when she stirred, raising her head from his shoulder to check the clock. "I should probably go," she sighed.

When she didn't move to get up after a few seconds, Sheldon chuckled quietly. "You don't seem to be in much of a hurry."

"I'm comfortable," she murmured with a smile, relaxing against his chest. Her fingers toyed with the collar of his shirt. "I, um. I kind of hate the idea of going home," she confessed, smile gone. "What if he came back?"

She was unspeakably grateful when he didn't respond with an empty platitude. Instead, after a moment's thought, he shook his head. "If he'd wanted to hurt you, he'd have stuck around the first time. He didn't."

It was a fair point. "What if he changed his mind?" she persisted, then abruptly shook her head. "I'm sorry. I know I'm being childish."

"It's not childish." He brushed a lock of hair out of her face. She shivered when he met her eyes. "You can stay here, if you want," he offered softly. Before she could do more than raise her eyebrows, he added quickly, "I could sleep on the couch. Or... not."

A smile stole across her lips, one of delight and a dash of amusement at the slightly flustered offer. She brushed her mouth to his. "I'm tempted," she murmured, bumping his nose with hers. "I'm very tempted."

"Yeah?"

"Mmhmm." She trailed a finger down his throat, curling it under his collar. "The sleeping arrangements would be... negotiable."

He chuckled, a warm rumble more felt than heard.

She closed her eyes for a moment, torn. Finally she sighed. "If I don't go home tonight, it's just going to be worse tomorrow." Raising her head, she added with a hint of a wink, "And I don't think we're ready to move in together, so I have to go home sometime."

That surprised another chuckle out of him. "That's probably true."

With a great deal of reluctance, she rose and got ready to leave. At the door, Sheldon caught her hand, tugging her back towards him. "Are you going to be okay?" he asked quietly, concern in his eyes.

Ell nodded with more confidence than she felt. "Sure."

He touched her cheek gently. "Call me when you get there. Let me know you're alright."

"I will," she replied softly, touched. She slipped her arms around him, raising her mouth to his for another long, lingering kiss.

She almost called him when she reached her building, just to have him on the phone when she got up to her apartment. She considered it more strongly while she climbed the stairs. She even reached for her phone as she walked down the hallway. Each time, she resisted the urge. _I can handle this_, she reminded herself. It felt incredibly foolish to be so nervous about getting back into her own apartment, but she couldn't shake it.

It helped -- a little -- that the door was closed and her wards were undisturbed. She unlocked the door with hands that thankfully didn't shake as much as she could have expected. Inside, things were just how she'd left them, as far as she could tell; there was still a lot of chaos from the break-in, but she'd become familiar with where everything was even if she hadn't put it to rights yet. She checked the entire apartment quickly but thoroughly, heart pounding.

There was no sign of another intruder. She was alone, and safe.

As safe as one could be with an unseen, probably magically-gifted foe lurking out there somewhere...

She'd call Ailey in the morning. Ask her questions. Get the ball rolling on a Hunter-led investigation. Her cousins would be mad that she hadn't asked for help sooner, but she'd deal with that. Better to face that than to avoid it and put herself further at risk.

For now, though... She hit speed-dial on her phone.

It was answered after one ring. "Hey." Sheldon's voice was warm in her ear. "Everything okay?"

"Yeah." She went back to the front door, checking the locks and chain. "No one here, and no sign that anyone has been."

"Good. Try to get some sleep, okay?"

"Okay." She leaned against the door, closing her eyes. "Sheldon?"

"Yeah?"

"Thank you."


End file.
